How to Train a Valkyrie
by Duchess Delanie
Summary: Astrid and Ruffnut are presented with an amazing opportunity:  the chance to join the Valkyries.  Only one will be selected. Can their friendship-and anyone else- survive that?
1. Astrid and Ruffnut

_This is a plot bunny that had been bouncing around in my head for over a month now. Figured I'd see where it would go._

_I borrowed the notion that Ruff & Tuff's mom is a midwife from Backroads, and the rest of it probably belongs to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell, though my hubby did buy me an HTTYD poster._

_Comments good and bad are welcome as I'm a P.E. major and not an English major._

* * *

Metal clashed against metal, and the force behind the other blade maintained and grew. Both swords shook as the other slowly but surely pushed its way down in its goal to escape altogether and stab something important. Astrid gritted her teeth and held tight. Her arms ached something fierce and she would have liked nothing more than to drop her sword, admit defeat, and wander off somewhere to die. But that was the loser's path, the way of some little southern farmer stupid enough to believe life was worth more than honor. No, she was a Viking, she would never join any cause without the will to give her life for it, and there was no way she would ever drop her sword unless her arms came off with it, too. Saliva, warm and slightly coppery, welled up in her mouth. She spat it onto the ground. Her opponent wasn't good enough to have it in the face.

Pain. There was energy in every pain and ache. She could be sore after winning. Just because she was a female did not mean she couldn't win. Upper body strength was not all there was. Berk had churned out plenty of women warriors who were no less useful than any man. And she would join their ranks. What had her mother told her? Women bore more pain than men. They were meant for it. That was her advantage. Pain meant life. It would here. She imagined the pain from her muscles igniting, shooting forward through her arm, out her fingertips, into her sword…

Her blade pushed back. The chuckle accompanying the illusion of winning died quickly from her opponent's throat. She felt her teeth ready to break. Use his force against him. Make him lose…

Winners. Losers. Nothing between.

Things were going red and black.

The blades were about ready to cut through each other. Just what she wanted. She jerked her sword down, circled it through the air, and struck the blade against the side of Snotlout's head even as he was yanked forward by the force of his own sword.

"Hey!" he screamed. "Unfair!"

"You lose," Astrid said simply as she put her foot on top of his shoulder.

He mumbled something as he rubbed his head. "That hurt!"

"You big baby." She pulled the sword from his hand and held it up. Not that anyone in particular was watching. The twins were involved in a full-on brawl, weapons long before tossed to the side and forgotten to the evidently more pure art of hair pulling and biting.

"Astrid, I probably have a concussion now," Snotlout whined as he pushed her foot away. "I'll fall asleep. And then I'll die. And it will be all your fault."

This among all his other adorable little shows of bravado. "I thought you were tougher than that."

"A warrior has to protect himself."

She hadn't even hit him that hard. She rolled her eyes. "Here, let me take a look at you.

He climbed to his feet, giving that moronic Snotlout grin all the while. "Haven't heard you say that before."

"You idiot. Look at my eyes and spread your arms out." It would be downright hilarious if he did fall.

But he obeyed and he did not fall and his pupils were completely normal. "You're fine."

He took his sword back. "I demand a rematch."

"Now?" She fought back a sigh. Her arms felt ready to fall off and she had long ago lost any sensation in her back and legs. They had been in the arena all day long. As in all day. And even with winter right around the corner and the dwindling lack of daylight, all day was still an impressive length of time. Shadows stretched in long black stripes across the arena ground and the air was hazy with the approach of sunset. It was time to go home.

"Now."

A challenge. How she hated challenges and how they loved her. The last drop of adrenaline in her body admittedly came alive with Snotlout's demand. Fight fight fight. Oh, that Viking call. But that drop was a pathetic little drop and Astrid had been blessed with a few brains. She smiled superciliously. "No."

"No?" Snotlout's dark eyes went wide as his voice went up. "Please! Just one more time! I can't the day on a bad note. I just can't!"

"Bad note?" She shook her head and once again realized she would never understand men. "Snotlout, that little spar lasted over an hour! I don't think that was a bad note."

"I know, I know. And you're a fantastic fighter. You're the best in the village. Everyone knows that. That's why I have to fight you specifically!"

This time she did sigh, but she certainly made it express her annoyance. "Let's see. We fought how many times today?" She held up her fingers. "Five times. Count 'em. Five. That's a fair amount for anybody. And don't worry, you fought very well. In fact, two of those times you beat me.

He dropped to his knees. "That's just it! You got the best out of five! And you're the one that wanted it best out of five."

That was true. Another thing about that whole winner/loser problem. She always had to win. And now she had. "Sorry, 'Lout. It's starting to get dark and I have stuff to do. You did fine. I'm sure they'll let you fight, no problem."

"But—"

"Take on both the twins. They'd love that." And with that she walked off, only half-listening to Snotlout's challenge to Ruffnut and Tuffnut.

The breeze from the ocean was stronger away from the pit of the arena. She stood a moment on the walkway and took in the smell of salt and water. The salt would no doubt wind up stuck to her sweat, but at the moment there could be nothing more soothing. She had always loved the smell of the ocean, even the fish. She loved everything about the ocean, for that matter: the size, the ever-changing colors, the range of its moods, everything she could see far on its horizon.

She loved Berk. She could not deny that. It was her home. But an island was an island and even though she would always come back to Berk it would not be so bad to see something else for a change. Sometimes the itch to leave the island was so strong she could hardly bare it. Perhaps that was why she enjoyed flying so much. Riding a dragon was an instant escape from Berk and the promise of something else. She and Hiccup had spoken of it several times: Pack a few supplies and just… explore for a few days. As it stood in the meantime, next ship out of her would have her on board. And with rumors of threats floating around, that could be soon. Better fight somewhere else than home.

The sun began its descent into the horizon. She had always liked how the orange and yellow spilled over the water and streamed into blackness. For a few minutes longer she indulged her fancies and watched it before continuing home.

Her family's house was set squarely in the middle of the village. She had always liked that, how everything interesting surrounded her. It was a rare piece of gossip that managed to avoid the Hofferson home. She pushed open the door.

"Astrid!" Her mother looked up from her knitting and smiled. "Dear, you look tired."

Astrid nodded. "You have no idea. I could fall asleep right now and be fine."

"I take it you fought well, then?" Her mother's smiled widened.

"Still the best!"

"That's my girl." She set down her knitting. "Any wounds I need to clean?"

Wounds? Astrid quickly glanced over her body for any significant cuts. She had long ago learned how rare it was to actually feel something beat you down in the midst of battle. "Not seeing any."

"Good. Feel free to fall asleep, then."

Another normal night would have meant last-minute chores shoved her way, but the recent mindset was one of battle, and that meant anyone of age and skill was in no way blamed for thinking of nothing but. Sleep did sound wonderful. "Thanks, Mom."

She was about to head upstairs when the door opened and shut again.

"Astrid."

She turned and smiled at her father, who gazed upon her with arms folded. "Hi, Dad."

"You spent the day in the arena, I hope." His voice not unkind, not even stern. It was just… her father's.

She nodded. "Since sunrise."

"Good," he said with a smile. "Fought hard?"

Another nod. "The hardest I could. I beat Snotlout three times, Fishlegs twice."

"Only twice?" The smile flipped to a frown.

"I sort of fractured his wrist. Or something. He said he couldn't feel his arm after that."

"That's good then." Her father crossed the room to sit across from his wife. "Did you fight anyone else?"

"Just those two." How long would the interrogation last tonight? "It took all day. Snotlout kept wanting rematches."

"Really? Good for him. But better for you. Though I advise you to find someone more worthy of your talent. You need real practice. You don't know what you find yourself against in battle."

"I know, Dad." She took a moment to study her parents. Such opposites. She had taken after her mother in appearance, and when she was feeling shallow she was thrilled for that. Dagny was feminine through and through and always had been, and Astrid didn't know of a time when her mother had ever picked up a weapon in anything but self-defense. Dagny preferred her home and her garden and was probably the greatest housekeeper in Berk.

Her father, Seastench, was something else. Astrid didn't remember him as anything but old, at least twenty years older than her mother. His hair had always been gray, his face lined and scarred. It was a face she had always loved. He was tall, not especially bulky, but strong. He had taken down many dragons in his younger years and even now was legendary. If given his way he would speak of nothing but battles and weapons. He had provided her with a wooden sword the moment she could walk.

"Darling," her mother said to her father. "She's trying to go to bed."

"She's tired already?"

He sounded so shocked Astrid couldn't help but laugh. "Goodnight."

She had barely lain down when something pelted against the closed shutters. Oh great. Hiccup. She pushed herself back up and made her way to the window and opened it.

There was Hiccup, a hand full of pebbles and that adorable dopey grin that made her heart melt. "Let's go flying!" he called up to her.

"I'm trying to sleep!" she hissed down at him.

"This early?"

"Yes, this early! I've been practicing fighting all day and I'm tired."

His smile didn't waver. "Can I come up, then?"

She laughed and immediately wished she hadn't. Laughs encouraged him. "No, you may not!" Hero or not, her father would break Hiccup's neck and not feel an iota of remorse if he caught him in her bedroom. He didn't think she needed those kinds of problems to distract her from becoming a warrior.

"But I feel like I haven't seen you in ages. You're always off… fighting."

"While you make weapons." She didn't know if he would fall for that line. He had the oddest need to constantly fit in all the time even when it didn't really matter. Hiccup was one face in their age group she had not seen around the arena. He was still occasionally unsteady in merely walking, and there was the unspoken debate of whether he would ever become a great warrior. She didn't mind, and anyone who should matter to Hiccup didn't mind, but for some reason he did. She continued before he could respond to that. "Take Toothless. Enjoy some time with him. And… and I'll see you tomorrow."

"No excuses?" He looked doubtful.

"No excuses," she promised, blowing a kiss to him. "Goodnight." She pulled the shutters closed.

* * *

Ruffnut was going to have to kill her brother. Kill him dead and chop that corpse into itty bitty pieces that would then be tossed into the ocean for the fish. In fifteen years together he had never done something so malicious and horrible and awful. There was no forgiveness from her.

"Will you just get over it?" Tuffnut had the nerve to ask as they walked home in the dark. They had been the last to leave the arena, and only when some creepy busybody woman (who was probably out looking for cats she might collect prophetic entrails from for all they knew) had screamed at them it was too dark to be messing around in the arena.

She tried to slug him, though truth to be told she could barely see him the dark and only managed to jar his elbow. "You're a creep."

"Ruff," he said with a sigh that only proved how much of a moron he was, "It's not like I maimed you for life or anything. It's nothing and you're being overly sensitive and you know it."

The perfect remark to set her blood boiling. Fifteen years and he still could not figure out how to talk to her. She whirled on him and this time managed a greatly violent shove to the ground. "Overly sensitive?" she screamed down at his surprised form. "Overly sensitive?"

"You're proving my point right now!" He tried to get up, but she pushed him down again.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to braid a monkey's fist knot?" She held out the end of her braid for his examination. The end of it was a snarled mess with the broken twine still indefinitely twisted into it. She would probably end up cutting it out, and it was all his fault.

"It's hair!" He kicked against her legs. "You're just going to undo it all tonight and do it all again in the morning. Like you do every stinking night and morning. It's just hair."

He was the insensitive one. He just did not get it. She kicked him back, then stomped quickly ahead of him. He was the one who was weird about his hair. Vain. That was the word for him. Disgustingly vain. Maybe she should just cut all his off in the night. Hair his length, unbound, would only be a hazard in battle. Wouldn't it be great to watch him figure that out? That would teach him to stick a knife into someone's hair.

"Ruff, wait!" he called from behind. "It's dark! I can't see."

How hard was it to follow a path? The house was just ahead, and she would be the first to tell their parents all the juicy little details of the day before Tuff came in to brag. And it was good to have a moment to her self, however long that would last.

The night was freezing. She loved that feeling on her skin. Her body was warm from fighting, blood still happily pumping through her. Getting to sleep tonight would be impossible, but she didn't care. She could lie in bed for hours enjoying the sensations of a post-battle body. The greatest feeling in the world. She stretched her arms out in front of her and let those muscles stretch. She was sore, of course, but she had never had a problem with being sore. Sore meant the day had been fun and there was nothing she liked more than fun.

Everyone spoke of possible battles these days. Ruff hadn't heard of any certain enemies and she didn't particularly care one way or the other. But the idea of a war was exciting. She felt the itch to club someone just thinking about it. Today had been a good practice for that. Mostly with Tuffnut, but she had a few good matches with Fishlegs and Snotlout both, though Fishlegs had this obnoxious issue about not hitting girls and she had declared no more wrestling matches with Snotlout after he had tried to get his hands where they had no business. So much for a happy medium with anyone but her brother.

She pushed open the door to her family's house.

"Auntie Ruff!" She was immediately met with the impressive force of a three-year-old throwing himself against her.

She caught herself quickly before she could tumble backwards and planted a kiss on the forehead of her nephew Bloodboil. Ah, so her sister was visiting. "Hey, cutie!"

The blonde-haired boy looked up at her with delight. "You're supposed to watch me."

"What?"

"Yes, please!" Ruff's older sister Sigrid sprung into view, looking very impatient. "I've been waiting for you to get here. Would you mind putting him to bed?"

"I can do that, Sigrid!" called out Tarnish, who was twelve and should never be allowed near a baby. "Come here, Boil!"

Ruff ignored her younger brother and instead hoisted Boil to her hip. "Where's Mom?"

"Someone or other has her baby coming like right now and Mom's been there for two hours and I'm supposed to be there helping but I've been waiting for you because I don't know where my idiot husband is. You had better have kicked someone's butt really good. Dad is out gathering the sheep, I think, and the twins already went to bed. Do not ask me where Sting is. You didn't see her on the roof reciting romantic verse to herself, did you?"

"Not that I noticed." Now to find a ten-year-old. At least the twins were asleep. Hopefully. The second set of twins in the Thorston household had actually wound up as the good kids. So far. How their mother dealt with Sting and Tarnish was nothing short of a miracle.

"Oh, well. Serves her right if she falls. I'll be back hopefully soon. Thank-you! Bye, baby!" Sigrid gave her son a kiss and headed out the door.

"Bye!" She watched her sister go, wondering how Sigrid could stand to assist in a childbirth while pregnant herself. Nineteen and already expecting her second.

"I don't want to go to bed!" Bloodboil declared as soon as the door was closed.

"All right." She probably should put the kid down to bed. "Want to wrestle?"

"I do!" Tarnish called at the same time Bloodboil gave a roaring baby "Yes!"

"Awesome!" She gently tossed him into the air, then squeezed him to her as Tarnish tackled her legs. Laughing, she dropped to the floor as Boil attacked her with tickles and Tarnish got in some fairly impressive punches.

The door opened again, and she was barely able to catch the sight of Tuffnut entering with a giggling Sting with her arms around his neck. Bloodboil had found the tickling spot behind her shoulder.

"Help!" she shrieked to Tuff as she shoved Tarnish's face away. "Take Tarnish!"

But instead Tuff just laughed, set Sting to the ground, and jumped right into the fight while Sting stood back laughing.

It was all play fighting, of course, though with Boil out of the picture it would have been slightly more vicious. Tarnish had their father's stockier build, and with another year of growth he would probably be ready to take on Tuff. Sting did not participate—she was going through a phase where she wanted to be rescued by some saga-worthy hero and carried off into the sunset—but she did make a mighty good cheerer and called them all on by turn. But even play fighting was fun. Perhaps even more fun than real battle because you could usually trust family not to try to kill you. She could still get in a few good kicks and punches that no one would mind. At last it ended, and all of them lying back on the ground, exhausted and panting.

And Bloodboil yawned.

"Perfect!" Ruff said as she scooped him back up. He instantly dropped his head against her shoulder.

"I want to play with some more!" Tuff complained.

"Me too!" said Tarnish.

Sting just rolled her eyes. She was as blonde as either of her sisters and could demonstrate all the combined attitude. "Sigrid said she wanted him in bed. Ruff got him tired, so he needs to go to bed. He's a baby and he'll get sick if he doesn't go to bed."

Bloodboil muttered something about not wanting to go to bed.

"Thanks," Ruff said to her little sister as she carried Bloodboil to their parents' room. He was asleep before she even laid him down, thumb in his mouth.

Back in the main room Tuff was fishing for something to eat while Sting and Tarnish played a game on the floor. Probably wouldn't hurt them to go to bed, either. Their mother had never put Ruff or Sigrid in any kind of parenting role, but there was something about being the oldest responsible sibling at home and a girl that just made Ruff feel in charge from time to time. "Bedtime!"

"But Mom's not back yet!" Sting said.

"And I'm twelve!" said Tarnish, like it would count as a reason.

"Dad'll be back any moment," Tuff said between bites of food.

The younger two scampered off upstairs. As well they should. Tuffnut Senior expected obedience from his children. They could be as chaotic and destructive as they wanted, but they would obey.

Barely were the kids upstairs then he walked through the door, mumbling about the idiocy of sheep.

"Daddy, I fought for five hours straight!" she declared as she went to hug him. "I did not even get tired. I took Snotlout down by wrenching his arm around his back and then I immediately did the same thing to Tuff."

Her father immediately looked much happier and hugged her back. "Any blood spilt?"

"Not this time. But lots of bruises. See?" She held up her arm for him to inspect. "This one looks just like a killer whale, don't you think?"

"That's nothing!" Tuff pushed her aside and pulled up his shirt. "Check out this color! It's almost green! I've never had a bruise go that color."

"I gave that to him, Daddy. With one hand. I swung back, concentrated, and punched."

"Dad, I got her back for that. I swear. Look!" He grabbed her braid and held up the ruined end.

Their father just laughed. "You messed up her hair? Son, you've got a long way to go."

Ruff stuck her tongue out at her brother. "By the way, Boil's asleep on your bed. Mom and Sigrid went out to deal with a birth."

He nodded, still smiling. "Just let me get a drink and sit down and you can tell me the rest."

* * *

Ruff was truly too pumped to sleep. She sat on the bed she shared with Sting and set down her brush. Her nightly ritual of hair brushing. Tuff made fun of it, of course, but it was necessary with the amount of she had. It would have been longer, too, if he hadn't cut the ends off it once when they were six. She had never forgiven him for that. But it was still pretty long and now it was all brushed and soft and pretty and ready to be once more braided in the morning. She considered just lying down and seeing if Sting's soft breathing wouldn't lull her to sleep, but felt no real desire to do so. She wasn't bored or restless. She was just awake.

Outside was her Zippleback. Maybe she should go flying. Tuff hated it when she called it her Zippleback, but the creature did prefer her. She didn't yell at him like Tuff did. That could be fun.

She pulled out the rope she and her siblings kept by the window and let herself down the side of the house. Her parents had known about the rope since Sigrid's time, but that did not change the fun of repelling down the wall. Her hair was stuck in her mouth by the time she landed on the ground. She should have waited till later to unbraid it. Oh well. She tied it in the best knot she could without any kind of twine and considered it good enough.

The dragon was tragically asleep, and she knew better than to mess with a sleeping dragon. What was the saying? Let sleeping dragons lie?"

Ah, well. Now what? She could always head down to the dock and untie knots in fishing nets. That was always good for a next-day laugh. She broke into a run. It was a new moon and completely dark, but she had run down the hill plenty of times and knew when to stop before falling into the ocean.

She was walking across the docks to where the nets were kept when she heard a hissed "Who's there?"

Ruff stopped, then looked off the dock into the water. "Astrid?"

"Oh, Ruff, just you. Thank Odin. I was dead tired after the arena today and I was so ready to go to sleep but then Hiccup came and made me feel guilty for not spending any time with him and after that I really couldn't fall asleep so I decided to go for a swim. My clothes are still up there, right?"

"Um…" Ruff studied the dock, but it was too dark to see much of anything. "Yes, they are. They're fine. Wherever they are." A swim sound really nice.

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep, either. Mind if I join?" She was already pulling off her shirt.

"Yeah, though it's freezing."

"When is it not?" Ruff finished undressing and dove into the water. The ocean was deliciously black. What was it about the feeling of near ice that was so exhilarating to her? She popped up to the surface, shivering and gasping for air, her hair flowing all around her. But Astrid wasn't turning blue yet, so they still had time. "So you blew off Hiccup? That's unlike you."

"I didn't blow him off! I was really tired at the time, but you know how insecure he can be. I love being with him, you know that. Heck, I even overheard our dads talking marriage plans."

Ruff grinned. "Really?"

Astrid nodded with a grin of her own. "Don't know how serious they were, but that's what I heard!"

"Well… possible congratulations to you."

"Possible thank-you." Astrid sighed. "Gods, it's nice to not be thinking about battle for a moment."

"That's because you don't get any fun out of it." Ruff took a few strokes out to see. The ocean was reasonably calm, no danger out this far.

"It's not fun. If we go to war with anyone, it would be serious!"

"I can't wait," Ruff replied. "I don't get you. You're so talented with a weapon and yet…" Her voice trailed off as footsteps steadily crossed the docks above them.

Astrid swore under her breath.

"Hello, girls," said an unfamiliar female voice. A few white feathers that seemed to gently light themselves floated down into the water.

At least it was a woman, Ruff thought. She could get in all sorts of trouble as long as it wasn't some lecherous boy watching them. She looked up.

A young woman stood on the dock. She was the tallest woman Ruff had ever seen, and probably the most beautiful. Her red hair was pulled back in a braided ponytail, and she wore exquisite armor that seemed to glow as brightly as the feathers. She held a spear taller than her.

"Excuse me, who are you?" demanded Ruff.

The woman smiled. "Put some clothes on, girls. I want to speak to both of you."


	2. Looking for a Valkyrie

Astrid pulled on her clothes, though they did little to stop the shivering of her wet body. But modesty in the eyes of a stranger demanded it and so she dressed while the strange woman stared off into the dark ocean. Ruffnut dressed even more quickly, muttering to herself under her breath words Astrid was not sure she wanted to properly hear. Ruffnut was treating this all like a game gone wrong for which they now must suffer minor consequences, judging from the way she had rolled her eyes and sighed as she climbed back onto the dock and retrieved her clothes like a scolded child and this woman was nothing more than the local busybody.

The woman was like no one Astrid had ever seen before, a stranger through and through. That she even stood here in a place like Berk seemed somehow wrong, an anomaly of nature. Astrid's heart pounded to the point she was lightheaded, and her fingers twitched at the night air and felt nothing but salt in the wind.

A sword. A knife. Any weapon. What had she been thinking, heading out into the dead of night with no protection? A Viking would never do such a thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. A Viking was always prepared, always ready, always watching. A Viking would never be caught out in the dark swimming naked without any mode of self-defense. Her head swam as she twisted water from her hair. The sound of it pouring to the wooden docks was deafening.

"And once again," began Ruffnut in an annoyed voice, "Who in Hel's name are you?"

"Shh!" Astrid put a finger to her lips. The woman had a spear while they were both defenseless and would it not be just peachy keen to have that very spear through Ruffnut because she couldn't shut up?

But Ruffnut just responded with her typical disparagement. "Plan on killing us with that when you're done talking to us?"

The woman continued to stare over the water. Her red braid swayed slightly in the wind. There seemed to be white feathers plaited into it. In fact, feathers seemed to surround her. There were only a few that Astrid could see, only countable on one hand, but their presence was greater than quantity.

"We're dressed," Astrid said quietly.

The woman gave a quick nod and turned to them. Her eyes were dark gray, though Astrid could not imagine how she could notice that in the darkness. "As I can see. Stand up straight, both of you."

"Why?" Ruffnut demanded, though she rose to her full height.

The woman did not reply, but stepped closer, footsteps silent on the dock. Those eyes were merciless in their gaze, and Astrid suddenly felt like a new weapon being inspected for use. The woman's hands were clasped about her spear, but those eyes poked and prodded as well as any tool.

At long last the woman removed herself back to the edge of the dock. "My name is Hrist."

"And that means absolutely nothing to us," said Ruffnut.

"Shut up!" whispered Astrid again, this time louder. Ruff could get herself killed by this woman, but the Norns be hung if she would get Astrid killed as well.

But Hrist just laughed. "I didn't expect it to, Ruffnut. But it is my name, you will respect it, and your honest prattle is annoying."

Astrid glanced over in time to see Ruffnut's first sign of fear of the night. "How did you know my name?"

"I'm a Valkyrie," Hrist replied simply as she ran a finger down the length of her spear.

"Yeah, right."

All Astrid could think about was that spear and how powerful this Hrist looked. And Ruff was going to get both of them killed. Astrid grabbed Ruffnut's arm and dug her nails into it.

"Ouch!" Ruffnut pulled away. "What is your problem?"

As if it weren't obvious. Astrid could feel her temper flaring, but choked it back. She could yell at Ruffnut later for this if it ever ended. Maybe it was a dream. A really, weird dream. Except she wasn't waking up and Hrist just looked on with an amused-if-impatient expression.

"Are you done yet?" Hrist asked.

Ruffnut opened her mouth to speak again, but Astrid clamped her hand over it. "You just called yourself a Valkyrie."

"Indeed I did."

Valkyrie. Wow. The word she had heard in stories all through growing up dissipated into gibberish. Valkyrie Valkyrie Valkyrie. Meaningless in sound and yet churning up images of blood-soaked battle fields and those women gleaning through the men like they were fallen wheat, picking favorites… images of Valhalla as however it was supposed to look and all the accompanying chaos and madness… images of death and battle and victory and the thrill of the fight… Astrid coughed, and realized she had not breathed in she did not know how long. "What?"

"Your hearing is fine, Astrid. I am what I say I am and I suggest you not ask for proof." Even as Hrist spoke her body seemed to glow ever so slightly while her voice threatened to draw blood. "And I've come here to speak to both of you."

"You said as much." Astrid hoped she sounded more self-assured than she felt. What would a Viking do now? So far Hrist had not attacked. Should she listen? There was nothing wrong with listening. It was diplomatic, it was wise. It would give her a chance to think of something else, if need be. She slowly removed her hand from Ruff's mouth. The other girl fortunately remained quiet.

"Your little… village here," said Hrist, with a nod at Berk, "Has caught the attention of many. "You've tamed dragons, which is most impressive. People would kill for that kind of power. The terrain makes for a strong defense. Both of those qualities work in your village's favor, but envious eyes are around. No doubt you've heard rumors of threats. Everyone seems to be brushing up on their skills as warriors. Including the two of you."

"How do you know all of this?" Astrid regretted the question as soon as she said. The woman was a Valkyrie, if she were telling the truth. Who was she to question their knowledge?

"Odin and Freya love battles. And the ones that will strike this little island, well, consider the gods some of the many who've noticed this place. The outcomes have not been woven yet. As I have said, between your dragons and natural defenses this island is well protected. Your people fight well. But then again… there are other tribes talented in offense. The ships that could surround this place… The scale could easily tip one way or the other. My sisters and I have woven nothing yet and the future is unseen. But it's something you should consider."

"Consider for what?"

"Odin seeks another addition to my troop."

Ruffnut gave a dark laugh. "As in plucking up the dead?"

Hrist glared at Ruffnut. "I wouldn't speak of it with such slight, girl. It is battle and glory and life and death and other such things you know little about. And yet you mock it all like a fool."

Ruffnut quieted immediately and moved closer to Astrid.

"But you show passion," Hrist said, more gently. "Lots of passion. You love fighting. You live for it. Fighting flows through your blood, Ruffnut. Which is why I have my eye on you.

"And Astrid." Astrid tried not to shake as Hrist turned back to her. "You, Astrid, are the most accomplished fighter of your age. And a female to boot. You're skilled beyond your young years."

"I've been training since I could walk," she said softly. Was this saying too much? Was she becoming Ruffnut?

"I still have no idea what this has to do with anything," Ruffnut said, confidence back. "It's late and we're both freezing to death."

"Then don't jump in the water at this time of year," Hrist said. "Valkyries have a lot of power in battles. They can choose who dies and who lives. They can weave outcomes, defeats, and wins. They are indestructible and immortal. Your village will most likely be attacked in the near future. If one of you were chosen by Odin for the troop…" She paused, and the only sound was water lapping against the docks. "Well, just think of what you could for your tribe."

This was insane. It had to be a dream, but Astrid was not waking up. "What are you saying? One of us will be become a Valkyrie?"

"Maybe. Odin has his eyes on others. He wants only one. But both of you are included, rest assured. Unless you say no and refuse Odin's consideration. And there would go any extra hope for your tribe."

Astrid could only stare at her as all the images and thoughts of Valkyries swooped straight back into her mind.

Suddenly Hrist turned, lifting the spear into the air as she did. In one fluid motion she released it. The spear soared through the air, silent as a feather, before stabbing itself into the wood at the far end of the dock. "Whoever is picked to join the troop would have to prove herself, of course. It's very difficult. Many of the finest have failed to receive the invitation. There is no shame in failure here. But much glory in the success."

In the blink of an eye the spear was back in her hand. "I don't expect an answer now. You both have three days to make up your mind. If you say yes, your training will begin. If you say no, you will never hear from me or any of my sisters again. I'll return tomorrow night."

And then she was gone. Not a sound, not a spark, just the presence of a woman named Hrist and then nothing.

For a long time Astrid could not speak. She could only breathe, in and out, cold air against her lungs.

"Please tell me you saw all of that," Ruffnut finally said. "I may be crazy, but I'm not… that kind of crazy. So please tell me you saw and heard what I just did."

Astrid nodded despite the fact she had completely forgotten Ruffnut had been there. "Yes. The woman named Hrist? The Valkyrie?"

"Fenrir's breath, we're both crazy!"

"Don't say that. That really happened. We're not crazy." Astrid hoped against hope it wasn't true.

"Astrid."

"What?"

Ruffnut opened her hand. There in her palm lay a large white feather. "It's a swan feather."

As slowly as she could, Astrid opened her own fist. It held an identical white feather.

* * *

"Wake up!"

Ruffnut turned her head back into the pillow and groaned. It couldn't be morning already. It just couldn't. Mornings were painful and bright and came way too early in the day and she was just too tired to deal with one.

But Sting just kept repeating the same irritating phrase of "wake up!" while Briarthorn and Sharpthorn jumped on the bed, giggling. Seven-year-olds sucked. Ruffnut pulled the blanket over her head. "Sting, why did you let the twins in here?"

"Because it's time to get up," Sting replied with way too much drama. "The sun's almost up. Let's go!"

"My head hurts. I had the weirdest dream."

"Well, I dreamed that I was lost in the woods except they were pink and I was about to be eaten by a troll but then Snotlout rescued me!" She sighed deeply. "Best. Dream. Ever."

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Briarthorn and Sharpthorn screamed.

Ruff groaned and forced herself to sit up. Everything swam before her eyes. She was way too tired this morning. "You're both annoying." She grabbed one twin at a time and chucked them off the bed. They landed in a pile, still laughing uncontrollably.

"You forgot the rope," Briar said between giggles, pointing her little hand to the window.

"I climbed it up and down twice while were you were sleeping!" Sharp put in as he climbed to his feet.

Darn. None of them had ever left a rope out. She must have really been out of it when she had returned home. She rolled dizzily from the bed and put the rope back to its hiding place. Outside the morning was misty, and pale light already flowed from the horizon. She grabbed her brush and pulled it through her hair. It was snarled from the ocean water.

Late night swim. So that part had been real. Not surprising. Swimming was fun. She divided her hair for braids. Yes, it was perfectly plausible that she had gone for a swim. And maybe Astrid had been there. Swimming was a popular pastime. But then the really tall woman who had called herself Hrist had arrived. She didn't know anyone in the tribe by that name. Maybe she had misheard it. And clearly the whole Valkyrie claim had been a dream because why would any self-respecting Valkyrie come to Berk?

"Can we braid your hair?" Sharp asked evilly.

"No. No one touches my hair." She set into the braiding process. Valkyrie. She had dreamt the woman named Hrist had said she, Ruff, could possibly become a Valkyrie. And what? Deal with dead bodies and serve ale in Valhalla like some common barmaid? No, thank-you. Dreams were so insane. But at least she hadn't dreamt about Snotlout like Sting had. Yes, dreams were insane.

She tried to shrug off just how real everything had felt as she headed downstairs.

Breakfast was already out on the table, Tuffnut slurping it down without a manner in sight. So gross. He was going to choke one of these days.

"Finally up?" their mother asked, bustling over with an empty basket and kissing Ruff on the forehead.

"I didn't sleep that late."

"A few minutes is long enough. Tuff was telling me about all the great fighting practice he got in yesterday. I assume you had as much fun. Sharp, Briar, go get vegetables." She shoved the basket into her youngest daughter's arms, who then grabbed Sharp's hand and hurried out the door. "Are you going back today?"

"Duh. I mean, yes." No sense risking her mother's wrath. Ruff slid into a chair and grabbed a chunk of bread.

"How exciting. Sting, looks like you'll be weaving again today."

"Yes!" Sting said from her place at the chair. The crazy girl actually liked weaving.

"And getting the water."

"But it gets heavy."

"Then make Tarnish help you."

"No!" Tarnish wailed.

Tuff laughed, nearly choking for real on his food.

"How did the birth go last night, Mom?" Ruff asked.

The smile faded from her mother's face. "Nettle's okay. Infant didn't live very long."

"Oh. I'm sorry." She could never understand why her mother and sister wanted to be around that. Birth. A process with such an ironically high chance of death. And how could anyone be okay after it?

"Not your fault."

It never was.

"Come on!" Tuffnut grabbed her shoulder and jerked her up from her chair. "Last one there is a rotten egg."

"I haven't finished eating!"

But Tuff just laughed and ran out the door. "Slowpoke."

How dare he! She took another large bite of bread and tore after him. Like he could ever beat her. She had run last night in the dark and could be even quicker in the day. A quick sprint and he thinking he was ahead and she had him. With a scream she leapt onto his shoulders and threw him down into the dust. "I win." She slammed a fist into his back, right between his shoulder blades, then jumped up and ran ahead while he was still trying to catch his breath.

The arena was more full than it had been the day before. More adults were there, taking time off from their professions to participate in some good old-fashioned Viking blood and gore. Awesome. She made her way through the various brawls to the weapons rack and selected an especially sharp-looking axe. It wound up as slightly too heavy for her, but she wasn't going to let anyone see that. Besides, extra heavy meant extra swing and she could possibly knock out Tuff's teeth with this. That would be the perfect payback for her hair.

"Who's ready to fight?" she declared. Tuffnut hadn't quite caught up yet.

No one appeared to have heard her, and the ones that did just looked at her. Mostly with impression, some amusement. Cool. The adults thought she was completely crazy. She was really beginning to build a reputation. Could she take on a full-grown man?

"Bring it on, Braids." Snotlout stepped from the side, where she had not seen him, and dropped his sharpening stone. He held up a broadsword and grinned. "Let's go."

She grinned back. She was feeling good this morning. "Are your hands going to stay where they're supposed to this time?"

"Come on. That was a total accident."

She heaved the axe over her shoulder and swung it out, completely missing Snotlout's sword. "My sister dreamed about you last night."

"Sigrid?" He lowered his sword and blushed. "Wow, she is a such a babe."

"Sting, actually."

"A kid? Ah, come on. The last thing I need is-" The side of the axe knocked awkwardly into his shoulder.

Ruff laughed. Victory. Though maybe the axe was too heavy. Snotlout just looked annoyed as he rubbed the spot.

"You need something more suited to your weight and strength class, Ruffnut." Fishlegs had appeared to watch, though now picked through the weapons rack. "Something too heavy is like a -2 or -3 from your possible force and an axe just looks clumsy— Ouch!"

Ruff had dropped the axe onto Fishlegs' toes. "No one cares."

"You know, Ruffnut, your little sister may have dreamed about me, but that doesn't mean the two of us can't go get something later if you're hungry," Snotlout said.

"You're an idiot. Fishlegs, want to shut up about stupid stats and fight?"

He shook his head. "You're a girl."

Always with that. Tuffnut was making his down to the arena and probably wouldn't be to her for a full minute and Astrid was nowhere in sight. Astrid would have been the first person she would have expected to see here. Ruff sighed and brushed at an itch on her arm.

Something came away in her hand. Feathers. Half a dozen swan feathers all tangled and matted together.

She had to find Astrid.


	3. First Fight

Astrid felt like a fool and an idiot and whatever the combination of those two things was called. Darkness had set in with only the faintest line of red lighting up the horizon like a bloody cut across the sky and water. Her eyes were glued to the sky, where the first sprinkling of stars was making its appearance. She imagined what she looked like, just some pretty girl hanging around the dock in a romantic and poetic fashion, if anyone had the time to think much of such things. If she had seen any girl staring off into the water and sky she would have thought them way too silly. Could they not be more productive? Having a boyfriend had done little to make her into a romantic. Fortunately, she had brought her battleaxe with her, freshly sharpened and cleaned. She wasn't sure why she had brought with her. Would this Hrist demand a show? Was it some subconscious desire to impress the Valkyrie?

"She's late," Ruffnut said, throwing a rock into the water. It landed with a distinct plop. "Apparently Valkyries don't know punctuality. That's kind of cool. She'll probably surprise us. We're totally going to have to be ready."

"You think she'll come, then?" Astrid asked.

Ruffnut sighed and laid back on the dock, legs still crossed. The girl was unbelievably flexible. "I'm bored. Why are we doing this again?"

With an unbelievably short attention span. Astrid let the axe fall to the dock. "I thought it was your idea."

Ruff snorted. "My idea? How is this my idea? I walk up to you, all "Hey Astrid, remember that freaky incident with the Valkyrie tart?" And you gave me this dirty look, because you're excellent at dirty looks. And then I comment "Wow, you're more determined that usual to split that support beam in two and send the entire structure tumbling." Which would have been amazing to watch, I think we can both agree to that. And so you fling the axe away, nearly split someone's skull, and ask what I'm thinking about. You've been distracted all day."

That was true. She had been distracted all day. An immortal Valkyrie showing up would do that to a person. She took a deep breath, blew out it slowly, and picked up the axe again. The weight of it was trustworthy and familiar. There was nothing like a weapon she knew. "I guess I'm still distracted. Why are you here?"

"Why not be here?"

"Because it's crazy."

"I like crazy. I can't believe I didn't agree to this last night!" She laughed. "I'm pretty sure this is my destiny."

"Ruff, I don't think this is a game." She sighed again and made her way across the dock to Ruffnut. Her footsteps were so loud. They would awaken the entire village and send them all staring at her and wondering what she was doing. "What if she's right? We've heard all the rumors ourselves."

"We're Vikings," Ruffnut said. "It's what we're made for. It's glory. This is so your thing. Let's be honest, you kick ass. Everyone knows it."

"What about you?"

"I'm not too bad myself." She pointed to a brightening cluster of stars. "Is that supposed to be a constellation? Because I never understood this whole constellation thing. Are Valkyries expected to know these things?"

Astrid followed Ruffnut's pointing. "It looks like… stars to me."

"That's what I thought."

Astrid considered attempting to pick out an actual constellation. A breeze had kicked up from the ocean, and that sunset wound had finally faded, giving forth all chance for that night sky to do what it did best. Was this not the perfect opportunity? Or was she just supposed to stand around feeling irritated and impatient waiting for a woman who may or may not exist? It had been next to impossible to leave the house, her father's watchful eye always on the door. The Hiccup situation. Always the Hiccup situation. A boyfriend was a silly thing for a warrior to have.

But here she was in all emotions of irritation and impatience, with Ruffnut of all people who was not known for thinking at all. Except for the most trite and admittedly amusing things. Astrid had always liked that about Ruff.

"Now, that one," Ruffnut said, changing the path of her finger. "That one has to be a constellation. Who would confirm this for me?"

"You're here."

Ruffnut sat up quickly, and Astrid turned.

Hrist stood a small number of feet away, swan feathers floating about her. She smiled, and the first hint of warmth Astrid had ever seen from the Valkyrie entered that smile. "I almost didn't expect you girls to come. I hoped you'd come, but I almost didn't expect it to be real."

"Well, we're here," said Ruffnut, jumping to her feet with a stomp and a whip of her braids. "Waiting a long, long time."

Astrid nodded in agreement. She had no time for someone who took forever. "We've reached our decisions."

Hrist removed a curved blade from her belt—the spear was nowhere this time—and ran her finger down it as her smile continued. "I hope you've thought about it, good and hard."

Astrid nodded again. Yes, she had. She had thought at all about it. She had slept on it, dreamt of it, even almost mentioned it to Hiccup before becoming terrified at the idea of what his response could be. It wasn't every day a girl was hit by the opportunity to become a Viking. Why wouldn't she be thinking about it? And with the threat to Berk, it was something that should be considered. Berk could use this. If she became a Valkyrie, she could do anything for Berk. Be its hero like she was meant to be, like her father raised her to be.

"I'm doing it," Ruffnut said way too happily. "Give me the weapons, let me kill something, whatever I'm supposed to do, let's do this."

"Odin will be happy to hear of that," Hrist replied. Then she flung her arm back with the knife clasped in her fingers and threw it. Ruffnut's eyes went wide as she ducked just in time. The knife continued its path right into the ocean. "Good reflexes, Ruffnut. Most impressive."

Her eyes then turned to Astrid, and Astrid felt the shiver she wished she did not feel. "And you? You're a prize yourself, Astrid."

"I'm not a prize!" She was surprised at her own ferocity, but the Valkyrie kind of deserved. "Yes, I'm in."

"Perfect." Hrist flicked her fingers, and from the corner of her eye Astrid could see the knife zooming through the air, water droplets clinging to it. It landed in Hrist's outstretched hand. "It seems we're going to have quite the little group here. Wonderful. I have high hopes that it will be one of the two of you that will be selected."

"Not a lot of surety here, huh?" Ruffnut said.

"It'll be all up to you and the judges."

"Judges?" Astrid echoed. "Who's judging us?"

But Hrist's mind and focus seemed to be elsewhere. "Astrid, I see you brought a weapon. Always prepared. I like that about you, it will serve you well. Ruffnut, what did you bring?"

Ruffnut blinked. "Uh…"

"Unprepared. That's fine. Take this." And once again the knife went flying at Ruffnut, who that time managed to catch it, more out of a mix of surprise, instinct, and pure luck.

Ruffnut stared at it, panting from the near-death experience. "What are we doing?"

Astrid picked up her battleaxe.

"Fighting," Hrist said.

"Each other?" Ruffnut nearly dropped the knife. "In the dark?"

What had they just gotten themselves into?"

Hrist put her hands on her hips and laughed. The effect was a giantess who had just found herself an amusing game to watch. Pure sport enjoyment. No participation from her while she still radiated the ability to kill either of them without a single thought. "I have no intention of fighting either of you at this point, and we're here in the dark. Have you not been in worse scrapes."

"Uh…" Ruff again.

"We've fought each other before," Astrid explained. That familiar axe in her hand felt suddenly heavy. "All the time."

Hrist shrugged. The smile was sharp now. Cold. "Then do it again, if you're so experienced."

Well, it was obviously a good thing Astrid had the foresight to bring a sharpened axe with her, though she hadn't expected to be fighting anyone. But if the Valkyrie demanded it, she'd do it. She lifted the axe behind her and charged at Ruff. It was not much of a charge, just a quick run across a short distance, but in her mind it lasted much longer.

"Tyr's bloody eaten hand, I only have a knife!" Ruffnut screamed. But that one little blade clanged sturdily against the axe.

An axe blade as good and heavy as Astrid's should have slashed through that skinny little blade like it was butter. She pulled the axe back and swung again. She wouldn't hit Ruffnut hard. Too hard. She knew her well enough to know she could handle it anyway.

But Ruffnut dropped to the ground. The knife blade flashed in the starlight, reflecting the ocean waves, and Astrid felt a distinct loosening around her foot. Astrid brought the axe down, knocking Ruffnut's helmet from her head.

"How do you know who wins?" Astrid called to Hrist in the sudden fear this just might be a fight to the death.

"When I say you're done," Hrist said in a sing-song voice. "You'll know. Don't worry."

Neither of them had anything as intelligent as a shield. Why had Astrid not brought a shield? The most important thing she could have.

Ruffnut slashed that Valkyrie knife right through her other boot.

Swearing under her breath, Astrid swung the blunt edge of the axe blade into Ruffnut's arm, then reached down and tore off the remains of her boots. Her bare feet nearly froze to the cold wood of the dock. It was splintery and gritty with salt.

Ruffnut rolled across the dock before jumping back to her feet. That crazy feline grin was already on her face. "Such a bulky axe there, Astrid!"

Astrid was struck by how odd it was that both of them just agreed to this fight without a qualm. She gritted her teeth and ran toward Astrid, axe ready to swing again. She could be careful. Playfighting was the norm.

But the knife moved again, and a sharp pain pierced Astrid's forearm. She kicked, a low form of fighting, but it was instinctive. She kicked her bare foot hard into Ruffnut's leg and shoved the axe blade against her shoulder. The force of both things was just enough to send Ruffnut, with a surprised scream, off the dock and into the water.

Astrid stumbled back, gasping. She dropped the axe onto the dock and studied her arm. It wasn't a deep cut, technically a scrape, but it was long and bloody. Ruffnut was way too sneaky.

"Congratulations, Astrid! You've won!" Hrist set herself into her own personal round of applause.

"What about me?" Ruffnut called from below.

Hrist ignored her. "First winner of the night, though I have to say that was, excuse the language, a girly fight."

Astrid glanced into the water, where a soaking Ruffnut was climbing up the dock posts. "Girly fight? Did you want me to kill her?"

"She injured you," Hrist said lightly. "And I think you did something to her arm with that axe blade of yours. Very impressive. Your usual weapon?"

Astrid shrugged.

"I think I prefer night," Hrist continued, "If that's fine with the two of you."

Astrid nodded, unsure of what to say.

"We can't stay on the docks, though. Too much risk of drowning, being seen. I'll decide on it later. Practice, both of you. You hear that, Ruffnut?" Hrist called down to Ruffnut, who was not even halfway back up.

"Bite me," was Ruffnut's response.

"I'll take that as a yes." And with that, she was gone.

When Ruffnut was in reach, Astrid pulled her, dripping, onto the dock.

"That lady is crazy," Ruffnut said between gasps.

"Agreed."

"How's your arm?" Ruffnut began to twist the water from her braids.

The bleeding had stopped. "Fine. How's your arm?"

"I can't really feel it, actually. Great hit."

Was that supposed to be a compliment?


	4. Frithjof

Was it normal to be this tired? Ruffnut did not do well being tired. But the first time in she could not remember how long she was leaning against the chains surrounding the arena as they were the only things in the vicinity capable of holding her up. Sleep. Oh, but did she want sleep! But instead of sleep she had spent the past week of nights fighting Astrid, of all people, on the docks. Why was she just fighting Astrid? It wasn't like she had anything against a good midnight spar with Astrid, but it was certainly cutting down on necessary rest time which meant cutting down on health which meant cutting down on Ruffnut's notorious good mood. The first few days hadn't affected her badly; rather, the extra rush of energy and adrenaline had made her extra perky. But lately it took every little kid in the house to rouse her from her bed.

It was midmorning. At least, she thought it was midmorning. She was too tired to look at the sun, but it seemed not to many hours had passed since she had dragged herself out of bed. She yawned and stared down at the Viking warriors in the arena. She was supposed to be down there. That was how she avoided so many girlish chores these days, with the whole "Sorry, Mom, but I want to be a warrior" excuse that was a great excuse in Berk. Everyone wanted his or her kid fighting, or at least capable of ripping someone limb from limb.

There was Tuffnut, sword-locked with Snotlout. She couldn't tell who was winning and she didn't care. Guys fought so much more differently than girls. Or did they? She wasn't sure what she always thought when she was fighting, she couldn't remember. But Snotlout and Tuffnut looked like they legitimately wanted to kill each other. Cool, way cool. She yawned.

"Get down her, Ruff!" Tuffnut called up to her as Snotlout gained force on him, wild Snotlout grin growing by the second. Wow, but Snotlout could be insane. "You owe me!"

She stared at him, momentarily incapable of speech, and then decided he wasn't worth the reply. She couldn't think of anything she owed him. Yeah, watching him possibly get pulverized by Snotlout was just fine with her. She yawned again and glared at him. There. That was reply enough.

She really should be down there. She needed the practice. Desperately. Astrid was better than she had ever before realized. Already, Ruff had been knocked into the freezing ocean four times. Four ridiculously embarrassing times. And Ruff had even brought good weapons. Lighter ones that worked better with her body type and strength or whatever Fishlegs would yammer on about for her benefit. Maybe he was right, but it still wasn't helping her defeat Astrid as often as she would prefer. Oh, there had been a few glorious spars that had ended with Ruff standing above a fallen and slightly bleeding Astrid, weapon raised above her head. But match for match Astrid was still better.

And that was a problem. How strange. It had never been a problem before.

That thought gave her a little bit more energy. Probably not enough to move, but she grinned. Was there anything better than a challenge against Astrid?

"Why aren't you down there?"

Ruff sighed and turned around. She had not heard Hiccup approach, but there he was, right behind her. Hiccup. He was definitely Astrid's and Ruffnut was just fine with that, but did that at all change the concept of how freaking adorable he was? Dragon tamer boy. Now that was hot. She couldn't resist a smile meant just for him. She couldn't help it. All harmless, though if Astrid were there Ruff would certainly be on the ground at this time.

"Hiccup," she said. "Good to see you around. How goes life setting metal on fire or whatever it is you do?"

"Good, good," he replied with a nod. "Though technically the metal never gets set on fire. It melts."

Gods, he could be as dull as Fishlegs. What had she ever seen in this boy? "Good to know. Now I know everything I never wanted to know about metal."

But he had the good sense to respond with a smile. "Though I'd kill to see metal properly on fire."

"Wouldn't we all?" Well, now this had become supremely awkward. Standing above the arena, chatting it up with Hiccup. And the chat was not much of a chat. Maybe she should have stayed home and attempted chores like a proper female.

"So you're not sick or something?" he asked, scratching his ear. "I figured down there would be the first place you'd be. I don't know. You're just always supremely violent like that."

"I'm a little tired." A girl spends her life cultivating a reputation as a lunatic and when she finally gets caught not wrestling someone to the ground she has the plague.

"You look it."

The conversation was getting more dull by the second. She yawned, this time partly as a signal to Hiccup. "K, as joyous as it is to see you now and then, we both suck at small talk, so what do you want, Hiccup?"

He turned bright red. "Can't a guy have a friendly conversation?"

She glared at him.

He sighed and shook his head. "Fine. I wanted to ask you about Astrid."

Astrid. Huh. Okay, that made sense. Hiccup and Astrid were crazy about each other, why wouldn't the boy be asking about her? She glanced down at the arena, where Astrid was battling someone twice her age and size. Disgusting. "She's down there. Did you go blind?"

"Yeah, I kind of noticed her down there, Ruff," Hiccup said dryly. "Not blind yet."

"Good, because that would be a problem with you flying on dragons and all."

"Probably." He sighed again. "Great. Now I feel stupid."

"A little late." She could barely stand even with the support chains. "Just ask whatever you want to ask and maybe I'll answer."

He looked down at the ground. "I was just thinking that since you're both girls and that girls tend to talk about things and you two are pretty good friends—"

"Out with it, Hiccup."

"I was wondering if you knew what was up with her lately."

That made Ruff slightly more awake. "Huh?"

Hiccup shrugged. He looked oddly sad. Like a puppy. "It's like she's been avoiding me. She seems so distant."

Odin, how did she end up in this situation? She should have made herself march right down to the arena and break bones and make people bleed. She was Ruffnut Thorston. She was the one who was supposed to be dishing out sage relationship advice, especially for Astrid and Hiccup. "And you're asking me why?"

"If you know. I was thinking you might know."

And he expected her to answer? What was she supposed to say? That for the past some odd nights his little girlfriend had been staying up to all hours of the night practicing for the opportunity of becoming a legendary Valkyire? Yeah, the boy wanted to hear that. "Well, I don't know."

But Hiccup was relentless. "So she hasn't said anything to you at all? Like, did I make her mad? I didn't think I ever made her mad."

She sighed. "Hiccup. Boring. Don't care."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry. I just thought you might know something." Hiccup's face looked so sorrowful.

Immediately Ruff felt bad and immediately regretted feeling bad. But it was too late. She pushed herself away from the chains. "Look, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to react. I get tired and then I get moody. It's all good. She loves you and all of that. None of this has anything to do with you."

"You sure?" His face had brightened, but there was still doubt in those adorable green eyes.

She sighed. She really hated being in this position. Being sweet and gentle was totally not her. "I'm sure. You know Astrid. It's business first with her and she's really into this training thing right now. Everyone is, you know."

"Yeah, I know." It seemed he tried to hide his eye roll, but rolling of the eyes was a difficult thing to hide. "That's what everyone is doing these days. We have dragons. Amazing dragons. I think we'll be fine."

"You should be down in the arena," she said. "You're pretty good."

Hiccup gave a dry laugh and glanced down at his left foot, or what had replaced it. "Nah, I think I'll stay up here where I'm more likely to stay alive."

She nodded. "Understand completely. Maybe that's why I'm up here. Taking a morning to appreciate life. It's boring. I should go down there to kill people."

"It's where you belong. So you're sure about Astrid? She's not mad at me?"

"As far as I know, it's all good."

"Ruff!" Tuff's voice screamed up from the arena. "Get down here and help me!"

"He needs your help?" Hiccup asked as he looked down to where Tuff was fighting for his life against Snotlout's blows. "How pathetic is that?"

"Saddest thing I've ever seen," Ruff said, wondering if she should feel more sympathetic toward her brother's situation. "Well, I guess I should get down there."

"That's right, go save him." Hiccup's laugh was real that time. "Sorry for boring you."

Ruff turned back to the chains as Hiccup walked off. Did she really want to go down there? Tuff was an idiot, and it was highly doubtful Snotlout really would kill him. Snotlout was more bark than bite that way, even if he was good. And kind of cute, though she wanted to gag at that thought. Being the object of Snotlout's latest attempts at flirtation was a bore. What she really wanted to do was sleep. Yes, sleep would be the best.

Now where could she go to hide for a nap? She slunk away from the arena, happy for the risk that no one would ever wonder too much about what someone like her was doing.

There was a spot in the woods that she and Tuffnut had claimed years ago. Slightly off a common hunting trail, behind a rock and under a half-dead pine tree and only a ten-minute walk away from the village. Close, but hidden in so many ways. She made her way there, yawning all the while. She hated being tired. She was supposed to be full of energy and craziness. Wildness. That was her. Not the girl that wanted to have a nap all the time. Hence the reason for needing to hide her sleepiness at a time where everyone would assume she was somewhere else.

The woods were peaceful. Peacefulness usually disgusted her, but at this moment it suited her just fine. Peacefullness was good and sweet and cozy and the woods sure were pretty if she were allowed to think of anything in terms of prettiness. She loved the smell of the woods, the trees, the dirt, the scent of some dead or not-so-dead animal. Finally the crooked oak that marked the trail toward the nap spot appeared, and she made the turn. A quick trample through the bushes and bramble and there was that half-dead pine tree up ahead. She could hide out there for a few hours in the place that she and Tuff used to pretend was a dungeon or a pirate ship and she would be ready for whatever crazy spar Hrist would make Astrid and her do.

But something else was in the area. She could hear footsteps.

Damn. She should have brought a half-decent weapon with her. Why was she always stuck with a knife in the most awkward of positions? Still, she whipped it out as if there were nothing more powerful. "Who's there?"

A face appeared in the trees. A boy's face. No one she had ever seen before.

"I got a knife!" she screamed, suddenly very much awake. "And I know how to use it!"

The boy laughed and stepped forward. "I don't doubt that, Ruffnut Thorston."

Her heart went cold with fear. She wasn't used to feeling fear. It terrified her more than the thought off this strange boy in the woods. The knife felt slippery in her hands, and she gripped it tighter. No way was she dropping a knife. No way. Though if worse came to worse she was pretty sure she could claw out his eyes. "How do you know my name?"

The boy stepped even closer. A complete stranger. He was at least a head taller than her, with dark hair that seemed to have a touch of green to it. His eyes were black. His clothing was a gray tunic. "You're one of the Valkyrie candidates, aren't you?"

"You were spying one me?"

He shook his head. "No spying. I promise." When he spoke, she could see his teeth. They were slightly sharp. Not like an animal's or anything, but sharper than normal.

"What are you?" she demanded.

He tilted his head to the side to get a better look at her. "What am I? Good question. Intelligent question. I'm a Jotun."

First a Valkyrie and now a Jotun. And here she was with a silly little knife. "I can still carve you up."

"I'm sure you could. Allow me to introduce myself." He swept himself into a low bow. "My name is Frithjof, and I'm here to help to you."

She considered lowering her knife, but her arm wouldn't allow it. "Help me with what?"

He came close enough that she could dash forward and stab him. "You would be the perfect Valkyrie, Ruffnut. But I'm afraid no one would notice. I could…" He seemed to consider his words. "I could give you more training. Teach you tricks. Anything that would impress old Hrist."

Well, this situation just screamed sneaky. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Let's just say I have a good eyes for these kinds of things." He smiled, revealing those teeth again. "Come on, Ruffnut. Think about it. You'd love to sneak in and steal that position. Or legitimately win it. How cool would it be for you to be out here getting extra help without a soul knowing?"

She had to admit that would be pretty awesome. She lowered the knife. "What's in it for you?"

He shrugged. "Nothing, actually. But let me put it this way. Valkyrie selection is very rare. Why would I not want to have a hand in it?"

Ruff stared at the Jotun who called himself Frithjof. Was he serious? Hel, was he really even a Jotun? That was a question she would like answered. But she would be lying to herself if she insisted the concept did not appeal to her. Strange boy, extra fighting, being even more sneaky… Oh, but she wanted it!

She swallowed and nodded, not wanting to look too eager. "Okay. I'm in. When do we start? Because I need to get in the habit of carrying a better weapon around."

"Tomorrow," Frithjof said. "Same time, same place."

She nodded again. "Agreed."


	5. Weaving Fates

Astrid hurt. It wasn't the usual kind of hurt that came from battle practice-related injuries, but an obnoxious throbbing pain of full-on muscle fatigue that left her all but unable to move. She lay in her bed, wanting to push the covers from her sweating body but knowing Berk night would freeze her if she did. Hel, she did not know if she would have the muscle flexibility required to push the covers away. So she just lay there, miserable, staring up at the wooden patterns of the ceiling and how the shadows played at them, while every muscle in her body screamed at her.

She was pushing herself. Obviously she was pushing herself way too hard and way too much. She had always loosely assumed there was a limit to how far a warrior could go, but she had never imagined she would find herself reaching that point. But here she was, in horrendous pain. Well, maybe not true pain. She had pulled muscles before and knew perfectly well what that felt like. That was serious. That required care. But fatigued muscles? Well, wasn't that why she had actually bothered to go to bed? To rest them? Geeze, but her body could be irritating.

She would just have to push herself even harder. Certainly all the warriors of legend suffered more than she. That was how they entered into legend. One did not make the sagas by being ordinary, by only training as much as the next Viking. She would rest at night, she would take care of her body, and she would spend her days perfecting every little movement and weapon lore she could. She would show those Valkyries. She would be Berk's hero.

But now she should probably be sleeping and she wasn't. She was lying there, aching and wanting to scream and it was all too much to allow her body to go to sleep.

Maybe she should just take a day off. Take a break. Go do something with Hiccup. That boy was so needy, but she should throw him an occasional bone of attention. He would love that.

Whoa. Was she really thinking such thoughts? Take a break? How would that help her be the best? Who took breaks anymore? What serious Viking did? Not a single warrior in the village was "taking a break". What would her father say if he heard what she was thinking?

Her father. Oh boy. Now that was a subject. True to promise she had told not a soul in the village about the training. And it had not seemed that Ruffnut had blathered it out, either. Impressive, as that girl could be quite the gossip. Like it was actually fun to spread dirty secrets around and ruin lives. Maybe Ruffnut was growing up slightly and somewhat. Maybe. But even with that irritation she held toward Ruffnut Astrid herself was so sorely tempted to say something. Especially to her father. He was the reason she had first become interested in becoming a warrior. He was the one who showed so much pride in her abilities, who encouraged her to keep pushing and trying and practicing and perfecting.

Wouldn't he just flip if he found out about her opportunity?

She smiled just thinking about it.

But she couldn't say anything, no matter how happy it would make her father. She would never reveal this secret. She would just… keep at what she was doing. No, she would do better. Much better. She would work until every drop of sweat had poured from her body and ever drop of blood boiled. She would take that spot with the Valkyries. It would be the ultimate honor. She would leave this island and see the world and every place the gods had touched.

If only she could fall asleep and take some pain away from her poor throbbing body. Practice had been torture that night. And Hrist still insisted she was merely instructing the girls in the basics. Warming up, she called it. Just what exactly did the Valkyries normally deal with?

It had taken place under the docks, in the shallow water along the beach, though Astrid would not have been the least bit surprised if Hrist had made them carry swords and axes under water. The shallows were to be representative of the blood baths of battle fields. An image that had thrilled Ruffnut to no end but had made Astrid feel slightly ill.

But that was okay. Ruffnut was good. Very good. But Astrid was better. Even if Ruffnut was suddenly on a learning curve of vast improvement.

In fact, Ruffnut had been the victor of the night.

But that was okay. Every warrior should be prepared for defeat. It was the opportunity for Astrid to examine herself and her skills and find every possible place for improvement.

What was not okay was her sleeplessness. Astrid groaned and rolled from the bed. She was so stiff… But she managed to force her way to the door and make her way down the stairs. Her mother kept herbs that would reduce pain and even bring on a little drowsiness.

The house was quiet. Shadows from the hearth danced against the walls. All perfectly ordinary.

And then something moved.

Astrid froze on the stairs. "Mom?" she called. "Dad?"

No real response, but a tiny hum broke out. Not either of her parents, but a familiar one just the same.

Hrist.

Astrid sighed deeply and marched toward the hearth. Ridiculous. Crazy Valkyrie woman entering her family's home like she owned the place. Did she have no respect for privacy?

Hrist was seated at a loom, humming the same strange song to herself. At first glance it seemed to Astrid to be her mother's loom, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she realized this loom was much too large and grand to belong to anyone in Berk.

Astrid had never felt any particular passion for weaving, but this loom was a thing of beauty. It did not seem to be made of the usual wood, but instead gleamed silver. It would not have surprised Astrid if it had been the precious metal. It was large enough to dwarf even Hrist, like the woman had borrowed it from someone else even taller.

For a long time Astrid watched her. Hrist's hands moved quickly along the loom, and the shutter beat fast. Thread seemed to fly and images too precise to be woven in such a manner appeared.

At last Hrist spoke. "You're up, Astrid."

Astrid nodded. "I couldn't sleep."

"It happens to the best of us," Hrist said with surprising gentleness. "I could tell you weren't sleeping, so I came here."

Was there anything freakier than to find a Valkyrie had been watching her so closely. "You brought a loom."

"Ah, not just any loom!" Hrist said with a wave of her finger and a smile. "It's something I wanted to show you."

Astrid looked again at the fabric being woven.

"There is so much more to my job than fighting," Hrist said. "There is… weaving."

"Weaving?" Astrid echoed.

"Not just any weaving. Have you heard of the Norns?"

Bits of stories jumped to the front of Astrid's mind. "They sit at the bottom of the Great Tree. They spin lives."

"Indeed. And Valkyries weave fates of warriors."

The gravity of the statement nearly felled Astrid. "What? You decided who lives and who dies?"

"We don't decide," Hrist replied sharply. "We merely weave. I don't know what will appear on the finished product."

"I…" Astrid fought for the words. "If I'm chosen, I'll be doing that?"

"It's not as grand as you might think, Astrid. You don't kill these men. You don't cheat for them that they might win a war. But what you weave will happen."

"Has the fate of Berk been woven yet?" Astrid hated herself for asking the question. It seemed untrusting. The Valkyries had promised help for Berk, for whomever won the spot.

"No. Not yet. There are still too many threads involved. Yours, for example."

"I don't understand. You can show the outcomes, but you can't weave them yet."

Hrist tilted her head and smiled. Once more Astrid was struck by Hrist's beauty. And deadliness. Suddenly all the training Astrid had ever done became pathetic in comparison. "We would never claim such power. You're yet a mortal. You'll just have to… see. Trust me, it's often better that way."

Astrid stared at the images on the fabric. They made no sense. Men. Swords. But they swam before her eyes into a mist of shadows and nighttime.

"What I want you do, Astrid," Hrist said softly, "Is practice your weaving. I think you could be good at this."

And then Hrist was gone, only feathers in her place.


End file.
